Anywhere the heart goes
by Adhana Riddle
Summary: Harry Potter AU. Many different One Shots about the relationships of Harry Potter. Often female Harry. Sometimes male Harry. Sometimes friendship. Often love. Soulmate AU's. Some stories are happy. Some are not. Some are something in between. Please R&R! Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor all the other mentioned movies or books and I don't want to make money out of it.
1. Victoria

Fem Harry (Victoria) is James younger sister. No Voldemort AU. Tom Riddle is the Minister of Magic. Some characters are out off their canon timeline.

It was cold. Very cold. Bleak, dark and there was snow. Mountains of snow everywhere. Even in Wales, where the Potter family lived.

Victoria and her older brother of a year had - a few days ago - returned home for the Yule break from a long and exhausting semester. The younger Potter was only in her sixth year now but feeling as if 'twas her last because of all the work their teachers buried them under. They even had gotten a ridiculously large amount of homework - especially in DADA. Her worst subject. Worst not because she was untalented but because of the Professor hating her quite immensely. Whatever she did, he never gave her good marks and always criticised her wandwork. Even her friend Hermione Granger, the muggleborn - he hated muggleborn students with a passion - received higher marks then her. James tried to talk sense into him once but after that backfired, he and his circle of friends started pranking him mercilessly. Him. Antonin Dolohov. The handsome DADA Professor nearly every girl was crushing on. Even her to some degree. And to her personal embarrassments he knew about her crush because jealous Pansy Parkinson, whose family was quite close to Professor Dolohov and who had tried for years now to trap him into a betrothal agreement, caught on during fourth year and let him know in a - for her - very humiliating manner. 'Twas since then that he harassed her.

And this Yule - of all Yules - on Boxing Day, their parents agreed to go to the annual Yule ball at the Ministers manor in Somerset. 'Twas the first invitation they had accepted after isolating their family for so many years because they found - and still find - those parties too pretentious and artificial for their own tastes. Everyone only went there because they wanted to be seen. Or because they wanted to flaunt their money and connexions in everyone's face. They had only accepted because Minister Riddle had asked them personally. Nay, nagged them. And after many invitations to tea they agreed to come. And because of all the conversation they had with the Minister their parents suspected that he was interested in their daughter. In her. Whatever had she done to pique his interest? The minister was clearly a handsome man and a powerful, intelligent and charismatic warlock but there were many women vying for his attention and she had only met him a handful of times during the summer break where she nearly never talked to him at all. So what was he playing at. Why her?

And to make it even worse: Professor Dolohov would be there, too, and probably make the evening a complete disaster for her, embarrass her family on top of it while humiliating her in front of everyone. What a wonderful Yule break it would be. Maybe she would be lucky and catch a cold. Or break a leg. Or get the dragon pox.

With a heavy sigh Victoria resumed her walk through their large frozen and snow covered garden and decided on taking the path that would return her to their ancient family manor. Potter Manor. Or once called Peverell Manor after their ancestor Ignotus Peverell whose only granddaughter Iolanthe married Hardwin Potter in 1290 AD. It would not do for her to freeze to death. Her parents would be devastated. As would be James.

Upon her return her brother lectured her about being outside in the cold while only wearing a thin cloak. She stopped listening to him after five minutes and decided to retire to her room. After all tomorrow would be quite long and exhausting.

The next day dawned too early in her opinion and she found herself roused from sleep by her mother Dorea around 8 o'clock in the morning. It was the 26th of December. The dreadful day of the ball. Her mother told her to be down to break her fast in their family's solar with the rest of the family before the seamstress would come to make or - in her mum's case - adjust their dresses. Her mother had chosen to wear one of her grandmother's dresses - a very ageless, elegant one while Victoria - who had a growing spurt over the last few months - needed a new one. It would be a simple but elegant blue gown - matching her dark, wavy black hair and her grey eyes - a colour she had inherited from her mother. Contrary to her brother James, who had inherited his brown eyes from their father.

The day passed slowly - but still to quick in her opinion - with Victoria standing on a stool for too many hours while the seamstress ran around her with pins to pin all those fabrics and laces to her body before the dress could be sewn.

Around 5 o'clock pm Victoria was finally dressed and her mother had sat her down to do her hair and a light makeup. After that she was finally declared ready to leave. She was thus ushered into the fireplace with her brother and the both of them flooed over to the Minister's Manor - a very elegant and tastefully decorated house. Their parents followed quickly and together they entered the already crouded ballroom. Victoria tried to escape to some hidden corner upon her entry but James' hold on her arm tightened and she was led over to the Minister who turned around upon their approach. A charming smile on his face.

"Mrs. and Mr. Potter. James.", he said while taking their hand and kissing her mother's knuckles. "'Tis wonderful to meet you!" Then he turned to her and took her hand in both of his. "Victoria, you look radiant!" He squeezed her hand slightly. "I am so glad you came!" He looked at her but talked to their family. "Would you honour me with your hand for the first set?" He asked her then.

"I would be delighted!" She said politely while blushing slightly.

"Are you sure that you want to dance with her, Minister?" A too familiar voice asked mockingly. "Miss Potter is very clumsy. I would not want to,even if she was the only woman attending tonight." Victorias head snapped up and she gave her least favourite Professor a scorching glare.

"I am quite sure, Antonin." Tom Riddle smiled even more charmingly. "Count yourself lucky then that I plan to monopolise Miss Potter and fill her card solely with my name!" Victoria's brow rose slightly upon his comment but she was thankful for his defence of her. "Victoria I need to welcome everyone who has still to arrive but I will find you for our first dance!" She curtsied and left to find a secluded corner near a balcony from where she could watch everyone and make fun of their preening and bowing and pretending.

The Minister found her around 7:30 pm and offered her his arm to take.

"I am sorry that you had to wait so long."

"Don't worry, Minister. It is your party after all and everyone wants a piece of you!" He studied her for a moment.

"Call me Tom, please!" He raised his free hand and softly touched her cheek. "You - out of everyone - need not use formalities while talking to me." She leaned her head to the right and studied his face.

"Why me?" She asked bluntly.

"I like you. For many reasons and I would like to court you, Victoria."

"But I am sixteen and still in school."

"It doesn't matter to me. You are the only woman I can imagine myself married to. And I met many women during my time as Minister. I would like to get to know you more intimately and - considering your age - I will be willing to wait until you are ready. What are a few more years after all those years I have been waiting to find you?" She blushed slightly and let herself be led to the dance floor.

Later that evening Victoria was found by her nemesis Pansy Parkinson and her vile friends. The young - newly engaged - woman was just enjoying a cool drink and a quiet minute. Tom had followed his promise (threat) to fill her dance card solely with his name - the only exception were her brother and his best friend Sirius Black - and got the rumours started. But the trouble began as soon as Parkinson opened her mouth.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't lovesick Potter. How are you? I heard you are quite a clumsy dance partner."

"At least some seem to believe that." Victoria raised her brow and gave her nemesis an even, bored look.

"Quite miraculous then that the Minister has been dancing with you so often. Are you feeding him love potions to make him follow you around like a fool?"

"Why should I need love potions? I think I am intelligent enough to catch his attention. Unlike other women I sadly am acquainted with." Pansy scowled slightly. She opened her mouth again to say something nasty but was interrupted by Narcissa Black and her sister Bellatrix.

"Oh Tory, we just heard the most interesting news!" Bellatrix cried excitedly and hugged her favourite cousin with some force. "I congratulate you, of course. He is the most worthiest of man!" Narcissa joined her sister and placed her arms around both young women.

"Our family is so very proud of you for finding such an excellent husband on your own! He is everything a man of world ought to be. Handsome, magically and politically powerful and of a noble and ancient family with a mix of fresh blood to keep our families from inbreeding. I hope, that I will be as lucky as you one day!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Pansy screeched. "Marriage? Whom will she marry? And when did that happen?"

"Oh Parkinson, the Minister asked for dearest Tory's hand and Uncle gave his consent!"

"The Minister, Marvolo Riddle, the Lord of House Slytherin, asked for your hand in marriage?"

"Why yes, he did!" Victoria said dryly.

"Why?"

"Well, what did he say. Ah, yes. Something like: You are the only woman I can imagine myself married to!" Victory looked across the room and caught his eyes. They sparkled with mirth. And his smirk let her know that he had heard them and approved of her choice of words.

Her cousins squealed in delight while Pansy gaped like a fish. But before she could enjoy her nemesis misery, someone had approached them from behind.

"I see that your next set is still free." Victoria turned around and found herself face to chest with Professor Dolohov.

"It seems so."

"It won't be much longer." He offered her his hand.

"Did you not complain about my clumsiness while dancing, Professor?"

"I did but now is your chance to prove myself wrong." And without another word he took her hand and led her onto the dancefloor. He artfully twirled her around as much as the music allowed him before he finally pulled her close against him.

"I hear that felicitations are in order."

"Thank you!" She tried to stay calm while blushing furiously upon the close contact.

"Why are you willing to wed him?"

"He is a respectable man."

"But you don't love him."

"I know. But there is a chance that I will, one day!"

"Is this what you have been reduced to? Accepting the first man that offered for you?"

"There would have been no one else, seeing that many respectable and single men do not even so much as look at me! Someone is keeping them away with false informations about my oh so stupid and untalented self."

"He is not worth your time!"

"He is, seeing that he was willing to spend his time with my disagreeable self." She glared at him. "And why does it concern you who I may or may not accept, Professor?"

"Because you were mine." He whispered into her ear. "No one was supposed to look at you except me. I had it all planned out…" A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. Victoria gasped and tried to back away.

"Quite possessive, are we not, Antonin?" Tom Riddle was suddenly behind her and placed his hands protectively on her arms. "If I were you, I would unhand Victoria instantly or you may find yourself unable to ever use your hands again." It was no threat. It was a promise. Professor Dolohov glanced at the Minister quite fearfully before removing his hands as fast as possible.

"You missed your chance, Antonin. So, never try to get close to Victoria ever again. And if you do…" He did not need to finish for Dolohov to understand.

"Yes, my Lord!" he said, bowed and vanished in the masses. Victoria leaned her head against his chest and exhaled.

"You would have killed him…?" He stayed silent. Both of them knew the answer.

"I am a dangerous man, Victoria. But you will never have need to fear me." He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her soft but wild black hair. "How can you ever learn to love me?" She closed her eyes and allowed herself a soft smile.


	2. Constanza

Fem. Harry (Constanza), Pirate (La tigre della Malesia) AU., Mid 1850 AD, Non Magic AU.

Malaysia was a uniquely beautiful country. It was everything she imagined it to be and also so much more. It was so completely different to the home she knew - the old and regal family manor in Wiltshire or the large, pompous town house in London. The villa in Italy near Napoli was situated on a stretch of land that looked a bit closer to this country because the people and the nature there were as wild as here.

Lady Constanza had travelled to Labuan after her parents sudden death two years ago. She had been sixteen then and barely out. Her father, Lord James Potter, the 5th Earl of Hogsmeade and her mother, the italian Lady Liliana, had been killed in a tragic carriage accident in London. Her younger brother Henry, who had been twelve at the time of their demise, was still at school and had become the ward of their paternal cousin Lady Andromeda Black and her husband Sir Theodore Black, 3 Baron of Grimmauld. They lived in Kent with their four children - Nymphadora, Regulus and the twins Bellatrix and Narcissa.

At first, Lady Constanza believed that she would live with Cousin Andromeda, too but her Uncle Lord Hardwin Potter, the governor of Labuan and representative of the east india company in Malaysia, invited her to stay with him until she came of age and beyond if she wanted. She agreed and left England half a year later to travel all the way to Malaysia. The journey took about six months and was an adventure on its own. She had seen the african continent, the gulf of Arabia, India and some other islands and ports that had been on her way until finally her ship "The Queen Elizabeth" arrived in Victoria.

She had lived a quiet life at her uncle's residence until one of the servants had found a wounded malaysian prince on Labuans shore. Rabastan. He had four bullets in his chest and was still alive. They had brought him to her uncle's house where he was unconscious and delirious for more than two weeks. Dr. Severus Snape had done everything to keep him alive and Constanza had sat at his side whenever she could to care for him.

In the week approaching her eighteenth birthday he finally woke up and introduced himself as the brother of the Maharaja of Chiaia. They met for the first time when she visited the wise man – no one knows his name anymore – an elderly priest with a long, grey beard and strangly sparkeling blue eyes. She was standing in front of his shack and the prince was sitting on his horse. It seemed as if he wanted to leave but as soon as her green eyes met his grey ones, he turned his horse around and had ridden it back to her uncle's house. She knew then that she did not want him to leave.

The second time they met was on the day of her birthday. She descended the stairs in a native gown and he was waiting at the foot of the staircase, looking at her and smiling. He wore fine clothes and his dark long hair and beard were well groomed. He looked like a true prince.

That night, he offered her a ring in gratitude for their help and care and as a gift for her birthday but Constanza had to refuse it because being given a ring meant so much more to a european woman. To her disappointment he did not dance with her, claiming to be unfamiliar with the european dances and steps, thus, Col. Draco Malfoy - who had wanted to marry her when they both had still resided in London but who never had the courage to ask - led her onto the dance floor. The prince's eyes never leaving hers.

There was to be a hunt on the next day. A hunt for a tiger. Rabastan found her before the hunt started and told her of an old malaysian tradition where a man killed a tiger for the woman he loved. He promised to kill the tiger for her and went into the jungle after Tremanaik, the young huntsman her uncle had hired. Constanza soon followed on a horse and managed to loose the hunting party very quickly. She found him and the tiger after Col. Malfoy fired a gun shot. Her horse reacted badly and threw her of. The tiger came out of her - it was a female - hiding place and went to attack her. Rabastan jumped, roared and killed the tiger with his dagger before he helped her up and told her that he had not been entirely honest about his identity. 'Twas true that he had been a Prince once but after the cruel and bloody assassination of his family through the English Colonists and Tom Riddle, the white Maharaja of Sarawak, he had become a pirate to avenge them and built himself a life. But they were rudely interrupted by Col. Malfoy, who screamed in rage after having recognized Rabastan as the 'Tiger of Malaysia' by his cry. The pirate had to flee and Constanza was left behind, hoping that he would not be found and that he would return for her.

He did so after only a few days and together - and with the help of his best friend and brother Ronald Weasley and a few of his men - they escaped to one of his ships that was lying in a hidden bay. They spend some very passionate nights on their way to Mompracem but were attacked by a dutch ship and had to bargain with the captain for Costanza's life. Rabastan feigned his death and was thrown into the sea, much to the rage of Tom Riddle – who was also aboard and who had wanted to hang him on the public marketplace in Sarawak.

Constanza was returned to her uncle - who deemed it too dangerous for her in Malaysia - and had to pack her belongings for her final return to England.

On her last night they were joined by Tom Riddle, who was visiting Labuan to trade with her uncle and Lord Roonil Wazlib, a scottish Lord who wanted to buy tea. Rabastan's brother did not only come into the lion's den to free someone of their imprisoned men but to relay a message to her.

And now - after living in Malaysia for more than a year - Constanza was sad to leave Labuan and her uncle behind. With a wistful smile she walked down the last stairs and was met by her uncle.

"Constanza, dearest niece, it pains me to have to send you back to England but I know that 'tis far safer for you there. Those pirates and wild savages are to dangerous for a Lady of your sensibilities and birth. And please think about Col. Malfoys offer! He truly loves you!" He kissed her temple affectionately. "I just want what is best for you, my dear!" She smiled softly.

"I know, uncle, and I will be happy to go home!" She turned and nodded her head in Riddles direction. "Sir!'

"Lady Constanza, I wish you safe travels. I am sure that you will never forget Malaysia!" He led her to Lord Wazlib.

"My dear, I, too, wish you a pleasant journey. It may be a bit bumpy along the ride but I am sure that you will not mind too terribly." He lead her to the open carriage and helped her inside. "Please greet our old island, which I am sure you will see very soon."

"Oh I will, Lord Wazlib" He closed the door and the soldier started moving.

Col. Malfoy personally accompanied her to Victoria and talked to her throughout the journey, expressing his hopes, that she may reconsider her answer Go his proposal.

"I will be leaving Malaysia in six months time and hope that - upon my return to England - you will be making me the happiest of men on earth."

But their entourage stopped very suddenly and the Colonel went to investigate.

"What's the problem, Creevy?"

"A tree seems to have broken down during the night and it would take us some hours to remove the stems. We should take the other route!"

"It seems, you are right. Well then, move on!" But they never did because they were surrounded by pirates. Rabastan and his men had returned and they attacked the soldiers with Quitte some force.

After many minutes of gruesome fighting, Col. Malfoy returned to her carriage, his pistol draw.

"Turn around, Lady Constanza, I cannot let them take you. It would be better for you to die here than to be enslaved."

"No, Colonel." An astonished look appeared on his face. "I knew that Rabastan would come. I knew that he would come and take me!"

"Lady Constanza be reasonable. Those are pirates."

"I know what they are but I love Rabastan. Yes I love him and he came to free me and bring me home. To Mompracem." Col. Malfoy just stared at her in shock before rage overtook him.

"Rabastan!" He cried and went to find the pirate. Constanza watched as soldier after soldier fell and watched the Colonel attack her beloved. They fought heavily for some minutes before Rabastan finally managed to kill him. As soon as the deed was done, he gave his comrades a command and came to her. Constanza - in the meantime - had climbed out of the carriage and fell into his arms. He took her face into his hands and kissed her passionately.

"My men will bring you to our ship. As soon as we are finished with Riddle, we will return and can finally leave for Mompracem." She smiled lovingly before she was led away to one of the horses. Yes, she would miss Labuan and her uncle but she was looking forward to become his wife and live a happy life.

AN: Just to let you know: The original series has no Happy End because Lady Conatanza (Marianna in the OS) dies at the end in Rabastan's (Sandokan's) arms after beeing hit by a stray bullet.


	3. Henry

AN: This is a very short one but the next chapter is ready and will be posted the day after tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who favoured and followed my story! :-) And if you find any errors, please let me know. I am a not native speaker and not always sure if what I write is right... But now on with the story...

Fairytale AU. Magic exists. Magical transformations.

He came upon her on the shores of a black lake that laid beneath a grand and mysterious castle. She was sitting on a stone and cried bitter tears. And at first he did not know why.

"Can I help you, Miss?" He asked quietly and sat down on a low and moss covered stump next to her. She gasped and turned her tear streaked face to him.

"Who are you?"

"I am Prince Henry from Godric's Hollow. But all of my friends and family call me Harry."

"And what is a Prince like you doing in Hogwarts?"

"I got lost in the forest on my way home and happened upon this castle. I hoped to ask the owner for shelter."

"I would not do it in your stead."

"Why? He has nothing to fear of me!"

"But you have everything to fear of Gellert Grindelwald." She whispered. "He is an evil warlock."

"What did he do?"

"Oh quite many nasty things. He curses people just for his entertainment. He ruins families. He kidnaps young lady's and hexes them."

"Is this what happened to you?"

"Yes. I am Princess Daphne of Beauxbatons and after visiting my aunt and uncle in the neighbouring kingdom I got lost in this forest, too. I was so afraid and asked him for shelter. He granted it but demanded me to give my virginity to him. As payment. I refused and told him that I would rather sleep on the shores of the lake than give myself to him. He laughed and told me that he would not mind granting me my wish at all. And with a wave of his Death Stick I found myself down here. Cursed to become a swan by day and to keep my true form at night. As soon as I realised, I knew that I could not go home anymore. My family would never accept me!" She broke into sobs again and Harry could not help himself but place an arm around her shoulder.

"I will help you, Daphne, and bring you home again!"

"Will you stay here tonight?"

"Of course, I will!" For the first time in weeks, Daphne smiled, while hope and something else bloomed in her chest.

Neither of them noticed the man hidden in the shadows of the surrounding forrest and the evil, malicious grin on his face.


	4. Catherine

Muggle AU. Modern time. War. Fem Harry (Catherine).

A loud explosion woke her up. Another bomb had hit the city. Or whatever was still left of it. Catherine rose and walked over to the broken window. Her eyes were peeking out, searching for the place of the explosion. There it was. To her left. The enemies had finally hit the large and formerly beautiful cathedral. A place long deserted but a safe haven to those who had not managed to flee in time. Those who survived. Like her. Now it was burning.

But, to be honest, those who were able to escape the city were as safe as those who stayed behind. The war, that lasted for two years now, was everywhere. And their President was at fault. He had been to greedy for more power, more money and more resources, insulted the other nations and doomed his people. He had finally broken all contracts and declared war, sending his troops into battle and destroying probably as many foreign cities and towns as their enemies did in their country. It was a very gruesome war. Thousands of civilians had died already and even more soldiers.

Everyone was taught to shoot and fight, how to build and throw bombs and how to find shelter in the ruins. Food was scarce and they needed to scavenge houses and markets for any edible things every day. It was pure chaos.

Catherine had managed to stay alive so far and hoped to reach the mountains someday soon. They were the safest place now because of their wilderness and the many hidden caves. She had fought her way through many a city now to get there and learned to show no mercy on the enemies, killing them on sight.

It was still dark outside but Catherine guessed that it would be the right time to leave her hideout because it would be too dark to spot her among the rubble. She quickly packed her gear and slid out of the small opening, holding her gun in her right hand. She walked down the deserted street and passed the burning cathedral. The doors were closed and the enemy circled the church. There were cries. Desperate. Panic-fuelled. Beseeching. Begging. But the enemy was mercilessly enjoying watching and hearing them burn. Catherine stopped behind a large ruined wall and started counting the soldiers.

"There are twelve of them." Someone whispered quite close to her ear. Catherine spun around and pressed her gun into his chest.

"What do you want?"

"To help you free those poor people. I grew up in this city and hate to see them die! I already walked around the cathedral to count them."

"How do I know, if I can trust you?"

"You don't!" He said. "But you need to, if we want to save them in time."

"Very well." They talked about an improvised plan and went out to shoot their enemies as silent as possible with the help of sound suppressors. When they were sure that there weren't more, they ran over to the cathedral and opened the doors. To the immense relieve of the locked-in. The people - probably about fifty - thanked them and left as fast as humanly possible. Only Catherine and the stranger were left.

"I am Salazar, by the way. Salazar Slytherin." Catherine raised her eyebrow.

"You are THE Salazar Slytherin? The famous author who wrote those many popular dystopian novels? Which had been made into very successful movies all around the world?"

"Yes. That one."

"Why are you still here and not in one of thoses safe countries? You surely had a chance many of us hadn't."

"I wanted to leave but I couldn't let my former friend Godric, the foolish, Gryffindor - our President - destroy everything I knew. I was in another city at the time and it took me a while to get here. I arrived at his fortress and tried- for many weeks - to talk some sense into him but it didn't work - obviously. We had a bad argument and I left, taking every weapon I could hold and trying to safe whoever I could."

"Did you manage?"

"Honestly? No! There are to many to safe and even more to fight. But most have left the town by now. We should, too!" He studied her face as best as he could in the darkness. "Where are you heading?"

"To the mountains."

"A wise decision." He held out his hand. "Let's go together!"

"Very well. But we should leave now or they will find us!" She took his hand and together they left the ruins of the cathedral behind them. Hoping to reach the mountains and to find safety in the caves. And hoping, against hope, that this stupid war would end soon or there would be nothing left to fight for.

During midday a group of aggressive soldiers found them and started shooting in their direction. Salazar pulled her behind the wall of a destroyed house and out of the line of fire. She thanked him with a squeeze of his hand and pulled a grenade out of her backpack. She armed it and threw it amid the soldiers. The grenade exploded a few seconds later and gave them the possibility to escape unseen. They pressed themselves against the walls and used the shadows to get further away. The towns outskirts got closer and by nightfall they managed to reach the forest that surrounded the city.

"I know a save cave where we can stay the night" He said and pulled her deeper into the darkness of the forest.

"How do you even know where to go?"

"I lived in the neighbourhood when I grew up and have been exploring this part of the forest quite thoroughly. Please trust me." She sighed but followed him nonetheless. "Thank you!" He whispered into the darkness. They walked for some more hours before he finally slowed down in front of a large, stony hill. It looked a bit eerie but he didn't seem to mind. Instead, he led her around it and descended into an even darker passage until he finally stopped.

"Is this it?" She asked wearily

"Yes. We stop here to get some sleep and continue as soon as the next night falls again." They put down their gear and switched on some flashlights to ready their camp.

"Do we need a lookout?" Catherine asked. "I could take the first watch."

"I don't think that it is necessary." He laid down and nodded at her. "Come one. We will be safe and we both need the sleep!" She sighed again but followed his suggestion. He offered his shoulder as a pillow and placed his arms securely around her. "Sleep well, Cate."


	5. Haera

Game of Thrones AU. Targaryen Harry (Haera). Harry is Rhaegar's younger sister. Viserys and Dany are twins. Rhaella died in childbed, while Aerys died because of an illness. Rhaegar is King and has two wives - Elia and Lyanna. Brandon is married to Catelyn Tully but died before he could sire any children. Eddard is the Lord of Winterfell. Cersei Lannister was wed to Robert Baratheon and Jaime Lannister had been released from the Kingsguard upon Rhaegar's ascension to the throne.

* * *

Soulmates were something very rare nowadays. It happened more often thousands of years ago but true soulmates vanished with the magic and the children of the forest or - in the Targaryens case - with the dragons. Thus Haera knew that she was different. Because of the name on the inner side of her right tight. She had never told a soul, not even her siblings that the Seven had blessed her. And she would probably only tell him. Probably.

She had met him once and that had been two years ago at the wedding of her older brother Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, his second wife. He had greeted her politely but never talked to her more than a few words. Which made her doubt that he had a soulmark at all. It happened sometimes that the person _you_ were destined for was not destined _for_ you but for someone else or no one specific.

She had watched him during all the days he had been staying at the red keep but he never watched her. Not once. Instead he - at least from her point of view - courted someone else. A true and very beautiful Lady who would truly make him a fine wife. A Lady with soft, brown curls contrary to her silver, untamable hair that she always needed to braid. A Lady with a smooth, olive coloured skin contrary to her pale one. Only their eyes were quite similar. They had the Targaryen colouring and shone like a clear, dark amethyst.

But somehow, two years after the wedding, he was still unwed. As was the Lady. And it gave her hope. As small as it may be.

But during those two years Tywin Lannister also send his son and heir to court - to woo her. Haera liked him but she would never love him. She had tried to forget her soulmate and fall in love with Jamie but it never happened. The gods would not let her. Because whenever she felt, that she had made some progress, she was sent dreams of her soulmate. She even tried praying to the old gods but they would not let her go. But they also would not help her to fulfill her destiny. Somehow she got the feeling that they wanted to mock her and keep her unhappy for whatever unknown reason.

She often asked her good-sister to invite her family but whenever they came, her older brother always stayed behind. Claiming that he had too many things to learn after his older brothers sudden and tragic death. After all, he was his father's heir now.

Today was her twentieth nameday and all the noble Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms were invited. They all came - even him, her soulmate. Rhaegar had hosted a tourney in her honour that had lasted for five days because of the many contestants participating. The last duel was fought out just at this moment. It was between Jaime Lannister and - surprisingly - Eddard Stark. Everyone shouted excitedly for their favourite while the two men fought valiantly. Only Haera sat in her chair and watched on in contemplative silence.

Jaime had asked her brother for her hand in marriage and Rhaegar had told her that she needed to make a decision. A decision he would announce - in case of her consent - during the feast tonight. But she knew that it all depended upon Eddard Stark, who was just now defeating Jaime Lannister and was declared the winner of the tourney. The masses exploded and Eddard was given a crown made solely out of blue winter roses. A crown he, according to his sister, personally had prepared in the morning. He rode to their box, which did not only host the royal family but also her other good-sisters Lady in waiting and confident, Lady Ashara Dayne. The woman Ned Stark, her soulmate, seemingly had been courting. Lady Ashara, who sat next to her and beamed at the northman. Eddard Stark stopped his horse in front of them and looked first at her brother before his gaze, surprisingly, stopped on her.

"Princess Haera, I crown thee my Queen of Love and Beauty." He placed the crown on her head and gave her a dazzling smile. Everyone started cheering. "May I have - at least - your first and last dance tonight?" She nodded happily, not trusting her voice at all. "And as many dances as possible for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh Ned." She whispered. "Of course you may." He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on her wrist.

"Well, it seems that I have to disappoint Ser Jaime." Her brother exclaimed laughingly. "You have my blessings, Ned!"


	6. Hannah

Fem. Harry (Hannah), Non Magic AU. Figure skating. Hannah/Antonin Dolohov

* * *

They glided over the ice with much elegance and completely synchronised to the touching music. He placed his hands on her hips and hoisted her into the air in which she spun around artfully, bowing her legs and arms gracefully before her skates touched the hard ice again.

* * *

" _You don't seem to have as much fun as your friends, have you, Honey?!" Her head spun around. The tall, dark and handsome guy her friends had been harassing for the past few hours was suddenly sitting on her towel._

" _Not truly, but I try to make the best out of it."_

" _If you don't like the waterpark, why did you come in the first place?" He asked her, pointing his hand at the many water slides, swimming pools and rollercoasters._

" _Well, its not the waterpark I dislike but rather the company I am here with but i_ _t's my friend Hermione's hen-do and they, she, asked me to tag along."_

" _Now I understand." He smiled. "I am Antonin, by the way." He offered her his hand._

" _Hannah." She took it and was suddenly pulled up from her towel._

" _Let's go and have some fun before your friends come back. I do believe they won't miss you too much between all their flirting and drinking."_

* * *

The audience clapped loudly and made her smile for a second before his hands found hers again and they spiraled around each other elegantly.

* * *

 _Antonin pulled her from one attraction to the other while always trying to cheer her up. He had noticed that her friend Hermione seemed to be the only one of the large group of girls that liked her. The others only made fun of her too small and slim stature or her messy, black hair. Telling her that it looked more like a man's body - small bosom, tiny waist, normal bottom, birds nest.  
_

 _They talked a lot - not only about inconsequential things but also about their lives. He was a professional figure skater, who had already won several medals and prizes. She was working in a large company, the secretary of a higher ranking departmental head. Nothing important and just one of many. She also told him that she used to train figure skating as a kid and teenager but never was declared good enough to become a professional. He typed his number into her phone and they agreed to meet again in London to go skating together. Just for the fun of it._

* * *

They took a running start and whirled over the ice before he took hold of her lithe waist to hoist her up over his head while she molded her body into different positions, making the audience clap again.

* * *

 _They ended up in some dark alcove. It was a stone cave under on of the larger waterslides and hidden by a small cascade. He had her pinned against the wall and they were kissing each other hungrily. His hands roamed over her barely covered skin - it was warm and she was only wearing a bikini - while hers were entangled in his dark hair that framed his handsome face. They soon got rid of the few pieces of clothing they were still wearing and got engaged in more bodily activities. Her friends never noticed that she was missing._

* * *

Their long program came to an end and the music faded slowly. They skated into their final position before their movements halted. They were both out of breath but it was worth it. The audience was ecstatic and cheered wildly.

They had been the last in the long program and skated to the edge of the rink, waiting for the jury to announce their score.

* * *

 _They continued dating and he soon persuaded her to move into his flat. He also trained with her each day after she finished work because he discovered that she was exceptionally talented and had recieved a superb teaching during her younger years. He registered them for several competitions along the way and the world cup, which had been a year ago. They won them all._

* * *

They sat on the bench and waited, his hand holding hers. Only a few more seconds and they would know if they had won a medal at the Olympic Winter Games in _. He glanced at her tense face and smiled inwardly. She was perfect. Not only on the ice. And no matter what rank they would be on, he would - after five wonderful years together - ask her to marry him.

Finally their scores were announced and the audience went wild again. They had won with a record score. Antonin pulled her into his arms and kissed her happily.

* * *

AN: Thanks for favouring and following my story! And please feel free to review or send me a message should you notice some grammatical mistakes. I am not a native speaker...


	7. Cynthia

Hunger Games AU. Fem. Harry. (Cynthia). AU for both Universes.

* * *

The crown was heavy when President Dumbledore placed it on her head. A stupid golden monstrosity. But she won the games. Together with Cedric Diggory, the other tribute from their District. District 12. The District that handled the wild beasts and mystical creatures. The only District magical people were born into. But although they had an advantage with their magic, their tributes rarely won the games because they were killed nearly as soon as the games began.

Cedric and her were lucky and managed to stay together throughout the whole game - protecting each other. Playing the stupid lovestory the Capitol wanted to see.

In the end they had to try to kill themselves with poisonous berries until the gamemaker - Lucius Malfoy - made an end to it and declared them the winners. President Dumbledore made an end to him and let him eat the berries afterwards.

Cynthia took Cedrics hand into hers and together they went into the light and towards the jubilant crowd.

* * *

When Cedric finally placed the ring on her finger, it felt so wrong. The Capitol was cheering and President Dumbledore smiled wickedly. During the past six months she came to enjoy Cedrics presence and she liked him very much but it was no romantic love. At least on her part. Yet, Cynthia was a brilliant actor and no one ever suspected her to feel anything less than eternal love for her new husband. Not even Albus Dumbledore or their mentor Sirius Black.

Sweet Cedric gave her a heartfelt smile at the end of their ceremony and carried her out of the palace and into the carriage that was waiting for them in front of the gates. The crowd cheered and the cameras showed their happy, glowing faces all over Avalon.

* * *

The third Quarter Quell had ended with a catastrophe. Their second mentor - Minerva McGonagall - a truly fearsome witch - had sacrificed herself for Cedric and three other Tributs - Angelina Johnson, Viktor Krum and Arthur Weasley - an ingenious inventor.

Sirius had managed to get them out of the arena and transported them to the lost District 13.

Cynthia - who was already there and who had managed to evacuate half of her District before its destruction - waited anxiously for her friends and husband to arrive. She hoped that he was well and not too wounded. Their child needed a father after all. But he didn't know that yet because she only found out about her pregnancy after they left for the Capitol. But through all the hoping and worrying and trembling for his life, she still couldn't bring herself to love him like she should. And the guilt ate her up from inside because Cedric was so damn happy with her by his side.

The hovercraft landed and her husband was the first to leave it. Stumbling all the way towards her and pulling her into his arms.

"I missed you, Cynthia." The honest emotions in his voice made her cry.

* * *

She met him seven years after President Dumbledore's death by her hand. Oliver Wood was not only handsome and charming but also very caring and kind - a conduct she saw him displaying whenever he helped her care for the dragons or the other wild magical animals in their district.

They became fast friends and often met in between their duties and work.

He had a very special kind of humour and made not only her - but also her two children - laugh a lot. Cedric liked him, too, and invited Oliver over quite often.

After many months, Cynthia soon noticed her heart beating wildly, whenever he was close. His scent lingered in her nose even hours after he had already left and each day she hoped to see him again very soon. And, during one of their meetings, when a beautiful, stunning woman tried to flirt with him, she discovered for herself that she was hopelessly and completely in love with him. She cried heavily as soon as she was alone and her heart broke, knowing that she could never have him without hurting Cedric. Something she could never bring herself to do.

And when Oliver hugged her a bit longer whenever they met and when his lips softly kissed her cheek she knew that he felt the same.

Her tears have never been more bitter.


	8. Harry

Labyrinth AU. Jareth is Jareth. There is no one else more fitting for the role of the Goblin King.

* * *

He had four more hours to find his best friends little sister in the Goblin King's castle and win her back. Ron had - in a fit of anger - wished her away and Jareth - the Goblin King - had come and taken her. After offering Ron all of his dreams - which his friends was tempted to take, Harry had made a deal with the Goblin King and was allowed to run the Labyrinth and win her back in 13 hours. He had been quite successful this far and fought his way through the outskirts of the Labyrinth. He even made some friends - Ludo, Sir Didymus, his mighty steed Ambrosius and the dwarf Hoggle. But now he just made the mistake to eat the peach his friend had given him. He should have known that Jareth wouldn't play fair.

He leaned against the tree stump to steady himself because everything around him started to spin in a mad swirl of colours. He closed his eyes for a moment and, after reopening them, found himself in a strange ballroom filled with colourful, foreign beings. Fay. He was dressed in a fancy, slightly outdated costume and was aimlessly walking around the ballroom. Searching for something or someone. But his thoughts were hazy and he did not remember why he was here at all.

Suddenly, a handsome man with white blonde hair and a blue costume appeared amidst the masses, piercing his eyes with a pair of unmatched ones. His lips were moving and a beautiful song haunted his ears. _I'll place the moon within your heart._

Harry blinked and the handsome stranger vanished in the masses. Quickly, the teen wandered through the crowds of dancing people until he suddenly stood in front of the handsome stranger who was no one else but the Goblin King.

He gave Harry a charming smile and pulled him into his arms for a dance while still singing this strange, hauntingly beautiful song. _As the world falls down_ _ **.**_ _Falling_ _down._ Something was not right. But he could not put his finger on it. _Falling in love._

The Goblin King spun him round and round until his head hurt. The strange Fay surrounded them, whispering and laughing. _Makes no sense at all_. Harry pulled away and fought his way through the masses until he came to the edge of the room. A glass wall blocked him from leaving anywhere. He put his hands against the cold, smooth surface, pushing but it didn't move. _Makes no sense to fall. Falling._ A clock chimed twelve times and suddenly he remembered. He grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into the wall. A strong wind pulled him down and he was falling. _Falling down_.

* * *

"Give me the girl!", Harry said after finally reaching the castle in time.  
"Harry, beware. I have been generous up 'til now. I can be cruel."  
"Generous? What have you done that's generous?" The boy asked the Goblin King outraged.  
"Everything! Everything that you and your friend wanted I have done. Your friend asked me that the girl be taken. I took her. He cowered before me, I was frightening. You asked me for a deal to run in his stead. I gave you the chance. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for _you_! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?"

The strange song returned to his mind. _As the world falls down. Falling in love._ Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. I have fought my way here to the castle, beyond the goblin city, to take back the girl that you have stolen. My will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…"  
"Stop! Look what I'm offering you. Your dreams." Jareth opened his palm and offered him a crystal. A crystal he was so very tempted to take.  
"My kingdom as great... my kingdom as great... damn, I can never remember that line." Harry mumbled.  
"I ask for so little. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I shall be your slave."

Harry looked up and into the Goblin King's mismatched eyes. _I am sorry!_ He mouthed and his heart started beating rapidly.  
"You have no power over me!"

A defeated look appeared in the Goblin King's eyes. He threw the globe high into the air and everything around him started spinning. Harry tried to catch the crystal but his hand found only emptiness instead. An owl ascended from where the Goblin King had stood only moments prior and flapped its wings in Harry's face. A strong wind pulled him backwards and suddenly the boy found himself back in the Burrow, the Weasleys home in Devonshire. The girl - Ginny - was lying on the couch in the living room, sleeping peacefully. Ron was sitting on a chair, obviously surprised to see his friend but also relieved to have his sister back.

Harry sighed deeply.

" _He does not deserve your victory, Harry. He would wish her away again in a heartbeat."_ A voice whispered into his ear. A voice that sounded so much like the Goblin King. " _You threw away your happiness to save his neck. What will happen now?"_ The teen closed his eyes and imagined himself to be in the Labyrinth again. Surrounded by his friends. Dancing with the Goblin King.

Somewhere outside a barn owl screeched and flew into the darkness of the night.

" _It's only forever, Harry, not long at all! And I will find you!"_


	9. Helena

Kinda Time travel AU. After the final battle fem. Harry (Helena), Hermione and Ron are thrown back in time, by an unhappy accident, into the year 1920. They establish themself in the ministry - claiming to be foreigners - and are pulled - bit by bit - into the war against Grindelwald.

* * *

"Here, for you!" A bouquet of multicoloured flowers was thrust into her lap. Helena looked up from staring at her hands and found herself facing Newt Scamander.

"Thank you!" She whispered and quickly wiped away her tears. "But why are you giving me such lovely flowers? We never met before, have we?"

"We haven't." He said, looking very self-conscious. "But whenever I see you in the ministry you always look quite sad." He sat down on the bench next to her. "I hoped they would cheer you up!"

Helena placed them under her nose and sniffed at the many different flowers. "They smell wonderful!" A soft smile appeared on her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She looked at him contemplatively for some seconds.

"Do you know Ronald O'Neill? From the Department of Magical Games and Sports?"

"The australian ginger Keeper?"

"Yes him."

"I never talked to him. He does not seem like the type who enjoys talking about beasts or magical creatures. Or anything else besides sport and Quidditch."

"True. Anyway, we were involved. Two years ago, when we both came to England. I was in love with him and he promised me eternal love and the heaven on earth. I believed him. But a few weeks later he broke my heart. He just dropped me like a hot potato for another woman. A woman with a larger bosom and blond, wavy hair. His affairs never last longer than a few weeks before he finds some new witch. Just today I stumbled upon him and Miss Brown from Level five making out in his office.

And although he terminated our relationship nearly two years ago it still hurts every time I see him with anyone. And the worst thing is: He knows how much he is hurting me. It feels like he is tearing my heart apart again and again and again."

"Scoundrel!" He got up and held out his hand. "May I invite you to have some tea with me?"

"Tea would be lovely!"

* * *

She met him again in and between work. Sometimes they just sat in the nice tea shop around the corner and talked abot their lifes. Sometimes they just sat on the bench and watched the hustle and bustle around them in companionable silence.

Twice a week, Newt brought her flowers. Hermione found it very sweet of him.

"Why don't you ask him out?" Hermione asked her about a year later while walking through the Atrium in the Ministry.

"I can't, Mione. He is bound to travel to America in three years and meet Porpentina Goldstein, his future wife. How could I separate them? That would be cruel. You've read yourself that he loved his wife very dearly."

"History was damned as soon as we accidentally were brought back. Give it a chance. Or he will give up on you and actually fall in love with her."

"But what if he marries me only to discover on his journey overseas that he wedded the wrong woman?"

"You don't know that. What if Tina never was his Mrs. Right? Yes, he loved her but who says that he wouldn't love you more?"

"He…" But they were interrupted by Newt himself who stood near the lift.

"Helena, Hermione, nice to see you! Can you come over for a moment, please? I would like to introduce you to someone." Both witches looked up and found Newt in front of a red haired gentleman in his early forties. Helena recognized him instantly while her friend looked puzzled.

"I want to introduce you to my friend and former Transfiguration Professor, Albus Dumbledore." Hermione's eyes widened for a fraction. "Albus, please meet Hermione Granger and Helena Peverell." The older wizard fixed his eyes on her.

"Peverell? Any relations to the three brothers?"

"Yes. Antioch was my ancestor."

"But he died unwed and never sired children."

"He kinda did. But the son he fathered was a natural born son. His mother was a french witch whom he wanted to wed after he found out that he had impregnated her. But Antioch was killed before he could do the honourable thing and marry her. She went back to France after that and named her son Philippe Peverell. In honour of his dead father. He was raised and taught by her and wedded some noble french Lady later on, thus continuing our line. I grew up in France. My mother was an english witch while my father was a frenchman."

"That explains a lot. Quite sad that none of your ancestors returned here to take their rightful place."

"Yes, it is. I would have loved to study in Hogwarts, Sir."

"Please, call me Albus. The both of you. I have never been your Professor and every friend of Newts is my friend." He offered his hand. Helena took it without hesitation.

* * *

AN: I have some more ideas in my head but they are just that: ideas. I thence doubt that they will ever make it into a separate and finished story. The first part with the flowers just popped into my head during a long drive to work. I seriously thought about cutting the second part out of the published story but in the end I left it like this. Maybe I will write a second One-Shot about Newt and Helena getting together...

AND: I want to say thank you, Elfin69! I was very delighted about your reviews and very happy to read your thoughts! :)

I also want to thank all those of you dear readers who favoured and followed my story!


	10. Eleanor

Harry Potter/Star Wars Crossover. Fem Harry (Eleanor). Soulmates AU. Non Canon Universe. Tom Riddle never became Voldemort and is totally irrelevant to the story. Eleanor is a normal Ravenclaw. Lily and James are alive. Eleanor has a little brother - Ignotus - in Gryffindor.

* * *

It was one of these nights. Eleanor sat up in her bed and brushed her damp, sweaty black hair out of her face while calming down her breathing.

She had dreamed of him again. The strange boy-man she did but didn't know. He had been trapped in a large trash container with a beuatiful princess and a handsome rogue while fleeing from cloned soldiers. There had also been that strange walking and talking carpet again. And the droids.

Someone had been killed by a - was it called lightsaber? Then there was the man in black. With the cape and the mask and the very strange voice.

They had been flying this strange spaceship. Something the muggles used for movies only, those movies with the aliens. Flying through space was impossible - the muggles never managed and the magical people weren't the least bit interested in it.

Eleanor rose out if her bed in the Ravenclaw tower - a tower she would stay in for only one more week, seeing that she had finished her NEWTs only days ago.

Softly, she massaged her temples and sat down on the window sill overlooking the vast grounds of the beautiful castle. As a child she had always believed her imagination to be very creative and had put off those dreams as unimportant. But they returned every few weeks and she always saw the most bizarre of things. Flying shuttles instead of cars. Aliens of all kind. Strange music. Sand. So much sand. Two suns in one sky. And a boy with sandy blonde hair growing up with his uncle and aunt. He was a very talented flyer and a very knowledgeable mechanic.

Through him she had learned how those shuttles, spaceships, computer and the droids worked. She saw the drawings, their blueprints and - in boring lessons - sketched them on her parchments. And whenever there was a spaceship near his uncles house that he was to repair, he took her with him and showed her, patiently, how to connect the wires to the many different pieces and components. She even understood binary, because the boy understood it and taught it to her together with all the other languages he could talk.

Her parents, whom she had told about it, still thought her to be very creative and advised her to become a writer or painter. They did not take it - her - very serious. Only her godfather believed in her dreams. He told her that she may be dreaming of the man that had been destined for her. Her soulmate. Something that - nowadays - happened very rarely. She doubted it at the beginning - seeing that she dreamt of many very futuristic things but her godfather convinced her otherwise.

' _It is not unheard of that you are destined for a soul that is not yet born. Normally it will only be a few years or decades. But I believe that your soulmate will be born in a future that is still far far away. Maybe some hundred or thousand years will have to pass.'_

' _But if it is as you said, I will be long dead before he is even born. And, if I understood it correctly, he will not even be born on earth but on Polis Massa, a star system far away from here. He will probably never come to earth because he lives on Tatooine and we are so far in the Outer Rim and so unimportant. And if he does come here, he will only find a cold stone with my name engraved in it.'_

' _Oh Eleanor. The goods will be kind to you. I promise! They have gifted you with a rare soulbond and they will take care of you!'_

' _I wish and hope that you are right, Siri.' He hugged her then and placed a kiss on top of her hair._

' _You know that I am! And if you go missing one day, I wont't panic because I will know where you are!'_

Sighing, she summoned a piece of parchment and her quill - composing a letter to her godfather. Telling him of her dream and the pain her soulmate had felt. After finishing it, Eleanor prepared for the day and left to find Hedwig - her trusted companion.

* * *

Far away in the future that wouldn't be for some hundred years, a sandy haired young man shot up in his bunk bed. His head filled with dreams of a sad girl with soulful emerald eyes and long, wavy black hair. A girl, he had seen grow up in his dreams. A girl, who could do what those old legends about Jedis talked about. And more. A strong girl, whom he taught about ships and droids. With whom he traded languages. She seemed to live in a long forgotten, ancient time where cars still existed and books were read. Where computer were just developing. Where humans hadn't expanded into space yet.

Luke hadn't told anyone about her. Not his uncle or aunt. Not Obi Wan or his new friends. Only R2 knew. Because he had watched him when others wouldn't. R2 who knew about the strange, far off planet in the Outer Rim called earth. A planet that was no longer inhabited because the humans who had lived there, had died in some gruesome magical war. Those who had survived had fled into space and hid, the magical people slowly becoming what had been known as the Jedi Order later on. They had restricted their powers to do good. But some never forgot the darker arts and thus the Sith began. But what R2 had told him, taught him that the true origin and powers of the Force - the magic of earth - had been forgotten over time. Jedi couldn't transform things anymore. Or use charms to protect or entertain. Potions fell out of use and wards, runes and all those fantastic beasts were forgotten. He knew about them because Eleanor - the girl in his dreams - had told him about them. Had shown him. Taught him.

It was strange that he dreamt of her through not only space but also time. He longed to meet her. Not only in his dreams but also in reality. But he doubted that he would. How could it be possible? A flood of beeping sounds brought him back to reality.

'I am well, R2!' whispered he and placed his hand on the droid. 'I just dreamt of her again. She is so lonely.' R2 beeped again. 'I hope you are right my friend. She would love you!'

* * *

'Are you alright, Eleanor? You seem so sad.'

'All is well, Ignotus. I am just sad that I will have to leave soon and will probably never see all of this again.' She lied. 'Hogwarts has become a second home to me.' She patted her little brothers head. 'Be happy that you will have another two years!'

'Oh I surely am!' He laughed. Someone called his name and he turned around. 'See you at dinner, Sis!' And off he was. With a sad smile, Eleanor wandered along the halls with no clear destination in her mind. After some long minutes of walking she found herself in a familiar room. A room she had discovered in her third year. A room that housed the Mirror of Erised. Sighing, she went over to the mirror and looked inside. Seeing what her heart desired. Luke. Standing in front of a swamp-like lake. Surrounded by a thick, jungle-like forest. _Dagobah._ A voice whispered in her head. She went closer to the mirror. Her hand nearly touching it's surface.

'Luke…' she whispered and was surprised to see him looking deeper into the water. His eyes meeting hers. He looked so sad. As if the destiny of the galaxy had been placed on his shoulders.

' _Eleanor…'_ His voice was so close but yet so far away. And full of pain and longing.

'I wish I could be with you…!' She said. A tear escaped her eyes.

' _Nothing would make me happier!'_ he answered. A handsome smile on his face. Slowly, Eleanor placed her hand onto the cold, smooth glass of the mirror. Luke kneeled down and touched the water's surface, rippling it. And for a moment, Eleanor felt as if the glass was rippling, too and as if she touched his warm hand.

* * *

Luke's smile widened. He saw her. And he wasn't asleep. He even could imagine that it was her hand he felt and not the water. He was so very excited that - for the moment - he forgot his father and the Empire that needed to be defeated.

She stood in a vast room made out of stone. If he could guess he would say that she was still in Hogwarts. The door in the back was open and the sun was streaming into the room. She was bathed in the soft rays of daylight and looked radiant.

Instinctively he laced their fingers and saw her gasp in surprise. He was confused for a moment before he followed her eyes which now rested upon their joined hands. He squeezed his fingers, expecting the water to flood through but instead he felt her fingers.

'I can feel you, Eleanor!' He said excitedly.

' _I can feel you, too, Luke. But how is it possible?'_

'I don't know. But let me try something.' He tightened his grip, got up and started to pull his hand away from the surface. She seemed to feel a tug on her hand and started walking forward. Her arm emerged from the water, followed by the uniform she was wearing. The waves became larger until the surface was so uneven that her image vanished. But at the same time a strong force pulled his hand and her arm underwater.

'Eleanor!' He cried and grabbed her arm with his free hand. Pulling strongly until her head broke through the surface and she drew in a deep breath of air. Luke kneeled down on the shore again and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her close against his own body. 'Oh Eleanor…' He whispered softly into her wet hair. Her head was resting on his shoulder.

'Luke…' Her sweet voice answered and she looked up into his eyes, her right hand touching his cheek. 'We are together at last!'

'Yes we are.' He picked her up and carried her to Master Yoda's house where she could dry her clothes infront of the fire and get something to eat. 'And no-one will pull us apart ever again!' Some feet away a very eager and happy droid beeped his welcome.

* * *

AN: I couldn't help myself here because I needed to give a certain someone a happier future. He did not deserve all the drama and the self exile after everything he had done to save the galaxy. And I felt that Harry (Eleanor) was just right for him. They dreamt of each other while growing up and became friends. They taught each other. They talked to each other quite a lot. They understand each other like no one else will ever be able to. In my mind, Luke won't die a lonely man because Eleanor will always be with him for every step along the way.


	11. Christmas Special: Little Harry

My Christmas Special. A magical adaptation of one of my favourite Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales...

* * *

The winter of the year 1978/79 was one of the coldest the United Kingdom had seen in many years. The blizzard brought too much snow, no cars could drive and the airports stopped working. The people bought all of the warm clothes they could get and soon the shops were plundered.

Petunia Dursley, a very normal woman, was talented with a needle and decided to knit hats, scarves, gloves and everything else the freezing people desired to ,ake some profit from the freezing cold. She bought all the wool she could get and sat on her couch in front of the fireplace. On her left was a basket, in which she put all the finished clothing. As soon as it was filled, she send for her nephew.

'You wanted to see me, aunt?'

'Yes. I have here a basket full of knitted goods for the freezing people out there. I want you to sell them and bring back all the money you earn. I have written you a list with the prizes for each piece of clothing.'

'Yes, Madam.'

'And don't come home ere you haven't sold everything!'

'Yes, Madam.' The boy, Harry, picked the basket up and went to his cupboard to fetch his thin jacket and boots. He sadly didn't own a scarf and gloves nor a hat. He opened the door and walked out into the bitter cold of christmas eve. As soon as the freezing air surrounded him, he started shivering, wishing that he could stay in the warm house or - at least - own warm clothes. But he was quite unlucky and walked - with a last, longing look back to the house - down the street he lived in.

The snow was deep and he - being on the smaller side - had problems getting through it.

About an hour later, the little boy had fought his way valiantly to the park around the corner where he would start selling the knitted clothes. But only few people were outside and Harry feared that he would spent all night here or in the neighbourhood to sell everything.

Harry sat down on a bench near Wisteria Walk and watched the streets, looking for anything human. Sometime around noon, a small family came walking down the street, the children were dressed warmly and were throwing snowballs at each other while the parents laughed good humouredly at their antics. Harry rose from the bench and walked over to them, asking if they needed some of the knitted goods his aunt had made. The mother, probably pitying him, bought a few woolen hats and scarfs and gave him more money than he wanted. Harry put the money into the small wallet aunt Petunia had given him and thanked the family heartily ere returning to the bench.

The hours flew by and a few more people walked down the street. Some in a hurry - those were the people who ignored him and didn't buy anything - and some just outside for a little walk - those bought some of his aunts knitted clothes.

But as the evening came and the darkness fell, he still had about a quarter of the basket filled with warm, but damp clothes because it had started to snow sometime ago.

Little Harry, he was eight years old, sighed and rose from the bench. He didn't know what to do. His aunt had told him not to return home ere he hadn't sold everything but he was cold and wet and hungry. The small boy decided to walk around some more, mayhaps he would meet some more people. He walked into a small road and followed it for some minutes. But he was so cold and tired. Harry found a nice, small stone wall and sat down again, looking up and down the street, envying the people in their warm houses. But then he remembered the strange lighter he had found earlier today near his uncle's house in Privet Drive. Maybe it still worked and would keep his fingers warm. He pulled it out of his pocket and lit it. A blue ball flew out of it, hovering in front of him for a few seconds ere rising in the air and brightening the street. A warm oven suddenly appeared next to the boy. Harry scooted closer to it and held his fingers and feet out, soaking up the heat the oven emitted. But much too soon, the light faded and with it the warm oven.

Not wanting to get cold again, Harry lit the lighter again, hoping that the oven would return. It didn't but he got something else instead: a richly decked table. A fat, brown and crispy goose was in the middle of it, surrounded by cakes and pastries and steamed vegetables and other deliciously smelling goods. Harry rose from his places on the wall and walked over to the table to pick something to eat but ere he could get a hold of the pumpkin pastry, the light faded, again, and left him in the bitter cold, alone on a dimly lit street near Wisteria Walk.

Disappointed, the boy took the basket and walked further down the road. Oh how he wished that his parents were still alive. Then he wouldn't need to earn his keep with working at his uncle's house or selling his aunts many homemade things. He could sit under a large and beautifully decorated christmas tree instead and cuddle with his mum and dad.

He sighed again and pulled the lighter back out of his pocket, tempted to use it again. What would he see? Harry stopped and turned around. No-one was there. Good. He lit the lighter and watched the blue ball illuminate the street again. This time a tree like he had imagined it stood to his right. A bright smile broke out on his face as the boy stared at the wonderful christmas tree. But as soon as it came it had vanished again. Like the others.

A small tear escaped his eye and found its way down his cheek. How he wished for a family. Throwing a glance into the basket, the boy sighed. It was unlikely that anyone would cross his path tonight anymore. But maybe he should return to his uncle's house. It was getting colder every minute now and a few days in his cupboard combined with a probable beating would be better than freezing to death out here. He stopped again. Was it truly? Harry looked at the lighter he was still holding in his small, cold hand. Should he try it again? One last time? He lit it and waited what the magical blue light would show him.

'Harry! Oh my dear, beloved Harry! How I missed you' A pretty young woman with red hair, green eyes - his eyes - and a kind face said. A smile on her face.

'Mum, is it truly you?'

'Of course, my dear!' Harry beamed happily and lit the lighter again and again and again. Many blue balls flew out and his mother became more solid.

'Can you take me with you, mum? I am so lonely here.' The woman placed her hands on his cold cheeks.

'My darling boy, I would love to take you with me but sadly it is not your time to come and join me and dad.'

'Dad is there, too?'

'Of course he is, Harry bear!' She caressed his cheek lovingly. Harry lit the lighter a few more times.

'Oh why can't I come with you? I never wished for anything else than to be with you!'

'I know, my darling, I know.' She looked into his eyes. 'Give me your hand, Harry, and I will take you someplace nice and warm.' Harry did as told and was suddenly surrounded by a blinding light. It felt like heaven.

* * *

When Harry didn't return the next day, Petunia - feeling quite a large amount of remorse - called the Police. They searched Little Whinging all day but only found the nearly empty basket near Privet Drive, the woolen clothes were covered in snow, indicating that no one had touched it for some hours. They resumed searching the next few days, questioning the neighbours and putting up posters with Harry's photo everywhere but no one had seen the little boy after dusk. Only some remembered a strange, blue light that had illuminated the street four times that night, with the last time being the brightest. Two weeks later, they gave up the search and told Petunia that her nephew had probably died and was buried somewhere under the deep snow. They suggested starting a new search for his dead body as soon as the snow had melted.

'Oh Vernon, what have I done?' She said that evening, crying bitter tears of regret and guilt. Her husband placed his arm around her shoulder and tried to console her.

* * *

But what had happened to little Harry? Had he truly died? I think we need to return to that night once more...

As soon as the bright light had faded, Harry reopened his eyes. He found himself in front of a large, festive decorated manor house. The lighter was still in his hand and his mother on his right. She led him up the stairs and knocked on the door. Movement was heard inside until an elderly looking lady opened the door. His mother kissed his cheek lovingly ere vanishing like the other visions he had.

'Oh by Merlin's beard!' He heard the Lady exclaim. 'Whatever happened to you, my boy?'

'My aunt had sent me outside to sell her hand knitted clothes and told me not to return to her house ere I sold everything. But I didn't.' He hung his head. 'I walked the streets unsure what to do. I was cold. And hungry. And I lit this to try and get warm fingers. It brought me here instead.' The lady gasped.

'How can someone be that cruel?' She moved to the side. 'Please come in, my dear. I will draw you a warm bath and give you some proper clothes to wear. And of course some food. There is so much left.' She ushered him inside, closing the door after him. 'And tomorrow, you can join me and my grandson Neville. He will surely share his presents with you.' She lead him upstairs into a large bedroom and sat him on a chair in front of a lit fireplace. 'What's your name, love?'

'Harry, Madam. Harry Potter.' The elderly lady gasped.

'Oh my…' She kneeled down next to him. 'I am Augusta Longbottom but you can call me 'Gran' like Neville does.' She pulled out a wooden stick and waved it over his clothes who became very dry.

'How did you do that?'

'Magic, Harry. You will be able to do that, too, one day.'

'Really? My aunt and uncle always told me that there is no such thing as magic.'

'Oh nonsense! They have been wrong, Harry. But let's get you into the tub right now for some much needed warmth.' She took his hand and let him into a room connected to the one he was inside right now.

About an hour later, Harry was fed, bathed and clothed in a soft pajama. Gran had tucked him in and read him a fantastic story about a hopping pot ere bidding him a good night. They boy had fallen asleep very quickly.

On the next morning, Harry was woken by a shy boy about the same age as him.

'You have to be Neville!' Harry deduced and smiled contentedly.

'Yes.' He said and sat down on Harry's bed. 'Gran told me about how you came to be with us half an hour ago and I was so curious. I am sorry if I have disturbed you sleep.'

'Oh I don't mind, Neville. I rather prefer being woken like this than having my aunt knock loudly against my cupboard door.'

'Your cupboard door? What cupboard door?' The boy cried upset.

'I have been living in a cupboard under the stairs as long as I can remember.'

'But that's terrible. I hope Gran won't send you home again. You could live here with us and be my brother.'

'I always wanted a brother!' Harry said shyly.

'Me too!' Neville got up and took Harry's hand. 'Let's find Gran and ask her!' Harry nodded and was pulled out of his room by his new friend.

They found Augusta Longbottom in the small dining room, reading a funny newspaper with moving pictures. Neville excitedly told her what Harry had told him and asked her, if he could stay with them. Gran smiled and pulled a letter of the table, giving it to Harry.

'This is my gift to you, Harry. I have been away all morning to get it!'

'Thank you, Gran!' He took the letter and opened it carefully ere reading it. His eyes took in every word (even though he didn't understand all of them) and at the end, tears of joy rolled down his cheeks. 'You really are my new guardian?'

'Yes, Harry!' She smiled. 'Welcome to the family!' The little boy had the brightes smile on his face and jumped in the elder lady's waiting arms for his first ever hug.

* * *

AN: The original fairy tale has a much darker, sadder ending where the little girl with the matches dies after seeing and talking to her grandmother. I didn't want to be that cruel to little Harry, so I gave him a family instead. A happy Christmas to you all!


	12. Rosemary

Magic AU. Fem. Harry (Rosemary). Magic exists but is used without a wand. Magic users are known to the general public but also feared and hunted.

* * *

He saw her first in television. She was interviewed about the political campaign he was leading for his election as mayor of their city. Her commentary was very short, intelligently said and in his favour because he stood for equality. She didn't smile though and he felt as if she was suppressing something. He didn't even catch her name and soon forgot about her because of all the things he needed to do for the mayoral race.

* * *

He saw her again a few months later. He had been elected as the new mayor and was visiting the christmas fair in the old town centre. There was a play on the stage - probably a comedy, the audience laughed a lot - and she had a leading role. He was too far away to understand anything but she seemed to be very good.

He tried to get a better view but his colleagues surrounded him soon and led him to another booth.

On his way home later that night, snow had started falling heavily. The temperature had dropped quickly and the ground was frozen and very slippery. His colleagues had taken a taxi home but he had preferred to walk.

Somewhere in a dark alley he had to pass, a few hooded men suddenly blocked his way. One of them raised his hand and pointed it at his chest. A strong, invisible force pushed him back and smashed him against a wall. They were magic users. Probably those who hated all kind of politicians because it was a politician who suppressed, imprisoned or even killed them. Their president Bartemius Crouch, whose parents had been murdered by magic users when he had been just a child. He had feared them since then and strove to become president to kill them all of. Although he hadn't managed the genocide he at least forced them into hiding. Some magic users rebelled against the president and caused mischief or chaos. Then there was a rumour about a group of magic users operating underground. Kind of like an organisation. They found magic users after their birth and spirited them away. They taught them and after a thorough education they were integrated back into society, working in mundane jobs. Becoming invisible. Or so they said.

He had never met a magic user before and had always hoped that his rencounter with one would be on a much friendlier scale. But he probably wasn't that lucky tonight.

He opened his eyes and focused on the four men. One of them raised his hand. Again.

'Stop it, Avery. Killing the mayor will only bring you more trouble than you will ever want to have.' A female voice ordered from his left.

'Potter.' The magic user said while lowering his hand. 'We just wanted to beat him up a little.'

'Why? To make him hate us, too? He is one of the only politicians who doesn't hate us outright. He promised us the closest thing to safety and anonymity we can get in this town or even in this damn country. I don't want to blow it!'

'Yes, Ma'am!' Avery answered and with a soft popping sound and very little protest they vanished. The woman sighed and walked over to him. Her muted steps were getting closer until she stopped at his side and kneeled down.

'Everything will be alright, Sir. You will be healed in no time.' She placed her hands on the sides of his face and a strange force surged through him. His pain vanished and his vision cleared. He turned his head and found himself looking into emerald green eyes. Her eyes. She gave him a soft smile before getting up again. 'They will leave you alone now, Sir. They know not to disobey my orders.' She stepped back, the falling snow melting in her hair. 'Have a nice evening!' And then she was gone in the blink of an eye.

* * *

He researched her in the internet the next day. He only had her surname. Potter. But after adding many different tags he found her.

Rosemary Potter. Actress and singer at the local theater. No one famous. Living at her family's house in the western suburb, Godric's Hollow. The part of town, were the old and rich families lived. He even found an address. He wrote it down and canceled his meetings for the afternoon. He left to buy some flowers ere driving to the address he had found, hoping that it was the right one and that she was at home. After parking the car, he took the flowers and walked along the many old and noble houses until he came to her family's house. It was grand and impressive but also very elegant, completely built from sandstone and in an old regency style, with columns, stairs, door knockers and wide windows.

After opening the front gate and walking down the small drive, he rang the bell and waited at the large entrance door. Nothing happened for a few seconds until he could hear movement inside. An elderly looking man opened the door.

'How may I help you, Sir?' He was asked in a polite voice. K. Reacher was stitched on a nametag on the fine uniform he wore.

'I am looking for Miss Potter. To thank her for her help.' The man nodded and stepped aside to let him enter.

'I will lead you to the blue drawing room, Sir and tell my mistress to find you there!'

'I thank you, Mr. Reacher!' He was then led to a room on the ground floor, decorated in many different but matching blue colours. Some paintings of long dead nobles decorated the wall. Probably her family? He thanked the man - K. Reacher - again before he was left all by himself. Looking around the room for a second time, he found old photographs on the mantelpiece and a strange family crest stitched on the many table clothes. Curious, he walked closer to inspect it.

'This is the crest of the Ravenclaw Family. My mother's ancestors.' He spun around and found her leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed and her black hair tied back loosely with an emerald ribbon. She was wearing a soft, grey pullover and dark, black leather pants. Her feet were covered with high, black boots. 'How may I help you, Mr. Lennox?' He watched her for a few seconds before he walked over and offered her the flowers he had brought.

'I wanted to thank you, Miss Potter.' She took the flowers carefully.

'That wasn't necessary, Sir.' A soft smile appeared on her face. 'But you are welcome.' She became serious once more. 'If you truly want to thank me, Sir, I would ask you to keep what you know about me a secret.'

'I can do that.' He stepped a little closer, forcing her to look up because he was a very tall man. 'Are you agreeable to having a cup of tea with me?'

'Do you really want to date a witch? I could poison you with love potions or manipulate your mind.'

'You wouldn't do this or you wouldn't have stopped the men from harming me further.' He gave her his most charming smile. 'And yes, I want to take you out on a date because I don't care that you are a magic user. I would like to get to know you.'

'In that case I wouldn't mind having some tea with you.'

* * *

AN: I have some more ideas for this story (with some drama ere they can have their HEA) but I keep them stored away in my head for the moment... Maybe I will continue it at another point in time. Or maybe I won't...


	13. Kristin

Fem Harry Potter (Kristin)/ Comte Philippe de Chagny. Severus Snape starring as Erik, the Phantom. Albus Dumbledore starring as Gerard Carriere. Lucius Malfoy as the new Director of the Opera House in Paris. Walburga Black as his eccentric wife and leading soprano. Cornelius Fudge as his partner in business. Remus Lupin as head of the police department. Neville as Jean Claude.

Based upon the 1990 movie with Charles Dance. My absolute favourite PotO movie. Some of the dialogues are directly taken out of the movie.

PS: Philippe stays Philippe. Adam Storke is just perfect for this role.

AN: I am afraid that this one will be a little darker than the movie... And a little smut-warning for the end. I am afraid that 'tis not very good but it will have to do.

* * *

The Opera Garnier of Paris was impressive. Kristin had never seen something as magnificent like it ere today. She took her time walking around it while looking for the entrance. Never, in all her life, had she imagined, that she would come hither one day and receive singing lessons. Hopefully, Director Dumbledore would find her voice as good as the Comte did and take her into his Chorus.

She walked through the gate and - not knowing whither to go - knocked on the doorman's window.

'How may I help you, Miss?'

'I have been sent hither to meet Monsieur Dumbledore. I was promised singing lessons by the Comte de Chagny.'

'Oh Miss, I am so sorry but Monsieur Dumbledore has just been dismissed.'

'Truly? Do you think the new Manager would take me on?'

'I do not know but I will ask him!' He placed his hand on her shoulder and led her inside. 'I am Neville, by the way.'

'Kristin Potter.' Just as he opened the door, a group of chatting women surrounded them, looking at Kristin with narrowed eyes.

'Pansy heard you saying, that the Comte de Chagny sent you.' One of the women said.

'He did.'

'Where did he find you?', the woman introduced as Pansy asked.

'He heard me singing on a travelling fair.'

'A fair. Really?' Pansy sneered. 'Have you met him before?'

'Yes… I mean no! No, I never met him before!' She looked at the women. 'Are you his friends, too?'

'Friends?' Pansy laughed and pulled a necklace out of her bosom, showing his miniature. The other women did the same. 'We all are!' She laughed again, making Kristin blush ere walking away. The other women followed her.

'Ignore them. They are not worth your time!' Neville said quietly. 'He flirts with them a lot and takes them to bed occasionally but he never considers them something more but an affair. And that angers them! But come on now, let us find out if you can stay here!'

* * *

She was allowed to stay. But as a worker in the costume department. Seeing that she had no money, Neville had shown her a hidden place below the Opera House where she could live. Over the next days, she was taught how to sort the costumes and how to prepare the actors and singers ere they entered the stage.

But one night, everything changed. Kristin had - against Neville's advice - gone exploring. She had opened a hidden door in 'her' room and followed the stairs up until she reached the stage. Knowing that no-one was listening, she had started singing a song she used to sang together with her father, who had accompanied her on his violin. But unknown to her, someone had heard her and had not only fallen in love with her voice but also with her herself.

When Kristin returned to her room the next evening, a man descended from the shadows. A mask covered one half of his face, he wore fine clothes and had black, silky hair that was elegantly tied back. She was about to scream but his hand covered her mouth ere she could.

'It is not my intention to harm you, Mademoiselle.' Whispered he while pressing as closely to her as possible. His hand released her lips and let her breath again.

'But what do you want?' She asked, fear lacing her voice.

'Mademoiselle, last night I heard you singing.' She gasped quietly. 'I know you thought you were alone but you were not.' He placed his hands on her arms, softly caressing them. 'You have the most astonishing voice. It is like an angel. Exquisite in tone and shape. In fact in almost every single detail.' He leaned closer to her ear, sending shivers down her back. 'Except - but forgive me - it is obviously untrained.' He pulled back and looked intensely into her eyes. 'Now, without training, your voice - beautiful though it is - will never attain the heights for what I know it is destined. Now… If you would allow me, I can help you. I am a musician of some sorts but there is a condition. And this condition is inviolable.' His gloved right hand travelled over her shoulder to the side of her face. 'I have never taken on any students. For until last night I never wanted to. And if others hear that I am giving you lessons, they might want them, too. Thence I must insist that, if you allow me to be your guide, that I remain anonymous. Which is why I am wearing that mask.' His other hand touched the white mask on his face.

'There is no need to answer now. I will find you! Good night!' His lips touched her cheek in a soft caress. Kristin's eyes fluttered closed and a strange sensation flooded her body. As soon as she opened them she found him gone. What a strange man. His voice seemed so friendly but his appearance did not. Could she trust him not to deceive her?

* * *

Her Maestro - she was to call him thus - kept his promise and sought her out a few days later. He found her in her humble abode and led her to a room in the Opera, where he trained her daily - mostly after nightfall. He made her sing scales and exercises at first and taught her simple songs next ere he started her on the more difficult literature. Kristin enjoyed her lesson and was relieved that he never tried to seek such closeness again. Instead he seemed to shy away from her touch as if he was burned. They continued their routine for about four months until he found her ready to audition. Her Maestro was just waiting for the right moment to present itself.

It came with the arrival of the man that send her hither in the first place. The Comte de Chagny. Kristin heard of his arrival ere she had a chance to see him. She was just sorting the costumes after the rehearsal and placed them in the cart when all the girls - Pansy including - hurried down the stairs in excitement, crying 'Philippe! Philippe!' Kristin looked up from her work, her heart starting to race in her chest. Would he remember her? Or would he have already forgotten that he met her at the fair and sent her hither to the Opera Garnier?

She pushed the cart out of the door and wheeled it over to a hidden laundry chute, throwing all of the costumes inside. She walked down another staircase and entered the room to pick up the dumped costumes, placing them into another cart.

She opened the door and wheeled the cart along the hall. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the girls surrounding the Comte de Chagny, touching him everywhere and trying to place kisses unto his face. He seemed to enjoy himself and it made her lose all the hope she had harboured that - after the charming smile and the many stares he gave her at the fair - he was more than just fleetingly interested in her. She turned away and started walking faster than necessary.

'Kristin!' She stopped and her heart started beating wildly again. He had remembered her. She turned around and found herself facing the Comte. 'It is you.' He looked her up and down ere a frown marred his handsome face. 'That is not what I intended for you. I promised you singing lessons and instead I have to find out that you are to sort costumes.'

'All is well, Monsieur, I am honoured just to be here!'

'It is not, you have the most astounding voice and it would be a waste to not teach you! I know what I am talking about. I come to the Opera all the time!'

The girls giggled and Pansy cried 'Will you be at the Bistro tonight?'

'Better than that! Because I am so happy to be back with all of you, I am going to throw a party tonight for the entire company at the Bistro!' The girls cheered and clapped loudly. The Comte turned around, looking at her.

'Will you come with me, Kristin? As my special guest?'

'Very well. I try to be there!'

'That is all I wanted to hear!' He smiled prettily at her ere he turned back to the cheering girls. Kristin used this moment to leave.

* * *

'The Bistro is what we have been waiting for! Everybody sings at the Bistro. That is the tradition. That is why the company loves going thither. And you will sing, too! Then all will hear! And there is no way 'La Walburga' can say no!' her Maestro said ere rising and leaving to get something. He returned with a beautiful white gown in his arms. 'This is what you will wear!'

He placed the gown on her bed and Kristin rose to remove the one she was wearing at the moment. Undressing, until only her smallclothes were left, her Maestro helped her put the gown on and turned her around to close her up, his hands lingering longer than they should. He made her sit on a stool then and brushed her soft, thick, black hair ere pinning it up in a very elegant fashion, putting white flowers in it.

'You look like perfection itself!' He exclaimed and placed a mirror in her hand. 'And you will sing like an angel tonight!' He offered his arm and helped her up and outside where a carriage was waiting for them. It would bring them to the Bistro.

The ride was short and he used it to give her some last advice. Once they reached the Bistro, he handed her outside and led her to the stairs where he kissed the palm of her hand softly.

'I will be listening, Kristin and waiting for you at the Opera. Find me, once you are ready but do not tarry too much!' Kristin nodded softly ere she ascended the stairs and entered the Bistro.

The Comte was at her side as soon as she had walked through the door and took her hand into his ere leading her over to a small table in front of the stage. She sang shortly after and was soon joined by Walburga who could not stand a voice better than hers. But the Prima Donna was quickly frustrated and left to sit down at her table again, leaving Kristin alone on the stage to finish the beautiful aria. The applause was loud and Kristin was overwhelmed. The Comte smiled sweetly and led her to an elderly looking man whose auburn hair was laced with many grey streaks.

'Did I not tell you she is wonderful?'

'Wonderful does not begin to describe the beauty of that voice! I am Albus Dumbledore, former manager of the Opera House!'

'Of course!' Kristin said.

'And I must tell you, Mademoiselle, not only is your voice astonishing but it is reminding me of someone I was privileged to know many years ago. A great singer, Rowena.'

Kristin looked confused but smiled at him nonetheless.

'I suppose you never heard of her?'

'No…' She exclaimed honestly.

'Well. No matter! Go and enjoy your success!' He said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. The Comte took her hand again and led her outside to his carriage.

* * *

'Why do I keep thinking that I have met you before?' The Comte asked her. They were sitting in a small boat he was rowing. Everything was plunged in darkness and only the moonlight illuminated them with its silvery light. 'I thought it the instant I heard you singing at that traveling fair. I even thought I recognised your voice! Am I dreaming?' Kristin looked up. A shy smile on her face.

'No more than I!' His eyes met hers and made her blush. 'Do you not remember the little girl in the kitchen?' A memory resurfaced of a small girl serving tea to an old lady and her grandson. He seemed to remember, too.

'Kristin?' She nodded shyly. 'Oh my god!' More memories seemed to come to him. A girl playing the piano with him. The same girl singing at a village fair, a man - her father - accompanying her on his violin. A young boy playing the flute.

Both children chasing each other through the garden. His grandmother screaming like a mad hoyden. Her and her father pleading ere leaving the large house with their meager belongings after being dismissed rudely.

'I heard my grandmother's cries and your pleas every night since I was a child.' He looked at her intensely. 'I missed you, Kristin!' He sounded sincere.

'And I you!' She whispered. He rowed the boat back to the shore and helped her out carefully. They walked quietly among the trees for a while ere he suddenly turned her around and kissed her without a word spoken between them. Kristins heart started beating wildly and thousands of butterflies fluttered in her lower abdomen. Even though she knew that it would probably be only for that night, she could not refuse him anything. He pulled her closer and pressed her against a large tree, his lips never leaving hers. His soft hands found her waist and carefully slid up and down along her sides until they moved lower and started pulling her dress up. As soon as his fingers touched her bare skin and started massaging her tights, Kristin was in heaven and hoped that this moment would last forever. He was very gentle at first but the more his hands and mouth feasted upon her body the more passionate he became. They rid themselves of their clothing rather quickly and soon the very vigorous Comte was worshiping her body in ways she never thought possible.

* * *

'Twas already dawning when she returned to the Opera House. Kristin was dressed again but looked rather dishevelled. The gown was creased and her hair had come undone during their love making. She pulled the pins out while ascending the stairs quickly in search for her Maestro who would probably be worried and angry unto her for her tardiness. She hurried her feet and finally arrived at their room. Kristin pushed the door open and entered. The room was dark and only the early light through the window made it possible to see anything.

'Maestro?' she whispered into the shadows while closing the door quietly.

'You are late.' Came his voice from the other side of the room.

'I know and I have no excuses for my tardiness.'

'Where did he take you?'

'Into the woods.' She answered honestly, not being able to lie to her Maestro.

'Did he touch you?'

'Yes.' Silence followed her words. Kristin looked around, searching for his figure in the shadows.

'Did you like it?' He asked after a while. His voice was closer now.

'Yes.' She paused. 'Very.' Silence again until she suddenly found herself pushed against the wall. His hands on her shoulder and his face only inches away from her own.

'How dare he touch what has never been his.' He hissed dangerously, his lips barely an inch away from her ear.

'I gave him leave to do so.' Kristin whispered. His fingers dug themselves deeper into her shoulders.

'Why?' But she stayed silent. 'Why?' He asked again. His tone a bit more forceful than before.

'Because I enjoyed his attentions. I still do and if he asks, I would let him take me again until he finally tires of me like he does with all the other women.' His lips touched her neck and places kissed all over it.

'But you are mine!' He said darkly. 'All. Mine!' His hands went to her back, unlacing her dress and pushing it down, once the deed was done. He then got rid of her smallclothes until she was as naked as on the day she was born. She felt his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her until his lips found their way unto her hardening peaks, sucking and licking them as if the morrow would never come. His hands trailed down her sides. One of them stopped on her hip while the other went lower and vanished in the folds between her legs, finding the very sensitive spot the Comte, too, had found hours ago. His skilled, long fingers started rubbing and pulling on it, making her inadvertently moan. A long finger entered her and Kristin closed her eyes. Although she felt for the Comte what she would never feel for her Maestro, she could not stop her body from enjoying his touches. A second finger joined his first one and pushed in and out of her while his thumb was still rubbing on her sensitive spot. Her moans became louder and her breathing heavier. His lips found hers with a possessive passion and started to ravage them. The hand on her hip suddenly left its place and started to undress himself below the waist until it returned to her body, massaging her breast and teasing and pinching her hardened peaks. A cry escaped their joined lips and his tongue plunged into her mouth, battling with her own. His large, hard member now poked into her belly, rubbing up and down on her skin until his hand abruptly left her nether regions and hoisted her up on the wall ere lowering her again unto his sex. He plunged into her with some force, making her moan again. He started slowly but soon took up his pace and ravaged her until they both came undone, his seeds spilling into her, like the Comte's did only hours before.

'You. Are. Mine!' He hissed ere pulling out, releasing their mixed juices out of her sex to flow down on her legs. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor. He dressed himself ere vanishing in the shadows. Kristin leaned her head against the wall. The sun had risen and its rays found their way through the windows illuminating the dancing dust and her naked, sweaty body. Silent tears left her eyes. Would he ever allow her to see her beloved Philippe again?

* * *

AN: I leave it here. We all know how it ends. For those who do not: Kristin will be offered the role of Marguerite and La Walburga (Charlotta in the Movies) will poison her, so that Kristins voice does not work as it should and thus makes her debut a disaster. The Phantom kidnaps her and brings her down into his lair below the Opera House. Dumbledore (Gerrard) finds her and tells Kristin of the Phantoms origins. She wants to stay some more to make peace with him but fails and has to flee. Philippe and Albus rescue her - after he confesses his love in the most beautiful way to his friend - and bring her away from Paris. In the end, Kristin and Severus (Erik) reconcile over Faust's last Trio and the Phantom dies by Albus' hands on the roof of the Opera Garnier. Philippe and Kristin will have their HEA.


End file.
